


Collection of Songfics

by Caraphernellic



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, MSR, Pining, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:14:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caraphernellic/pseuds/Caraphernellic
Summary: Each chapter is a standalone work based on/inspired by a different song.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Mulder/Scully
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	1. Wicked Game//Phillip Phillips

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the rights to The X-Files or any of the songs mentioned in this collection.

It doesn’t happen often, but it has happened a handful of times since they began working together- Mulder and Scully are fighting. Not a bickering argument; that happens almost daily. A fight, with storming off, and a few days of silence, and sleepless nights wondering which one of them is the fool.

Mulder always blames himself, circling the drain of “Why does Scully even put up with me?”, while Scully feels guilty over not being more supportive of him.

Tonight is such a night, each of them wallowing separately- Scully, in her apartment, and Mulder in the dive bar two blocks from his own apartment. This is the rarest occasion, in which he turns to a glass (or two) of whiskey instead of going for a run to stave off the despair. The night is gloomy with the promise of more rain- the day preceding this somber evening having released at least an inch of the stuff. The impending precipitation coupled with the dirty feeling of having disappointed Scully keep him glued to the barstool instead of doing something more productive.

He wonders, not for the first time, how he could have possibly ended up in the predicament of being in love with someone he could never have. Scully was brilliant, alluring, radiant, every other adjective in between and so far out of his league that he may as well have been playing T-Ball while she excelled at the major leagues.

Mulder ponders if this will be the argument that finally makes her realize that she belongs somewhere else. He can almost feel her slipping through his hands.

He swirled the whiskey in his glass and signaled the bartender for another.

_ The world was on fire and no-one could save me, but you _

_ It's strange how desire will make foolish people do _

_ No, I'd never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you _

_ And I'd never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you _

_ No, I don't wanna fall in love, no _

_ No, I don't wanna fall in love _

_ This world will break your heart _

_ Nobody's falling in love _

Scully glances at the phone on the end table beside her, despite knowing that she clearly has not heard it ring. She resides in a strange state of expecting Mulder to call and simply wishing for it. She hates that she let herself walk away today, despises knowing that she walked away from him knowing that he was hurting and that she was the cause. How could she shut down every single thought he has and not expect it to upset him? Scully knows she can be unfair at times, can become single-minded and shut down other possibilities. She’s never known anyone who thinks like her partner, so out-of-the-box and divergent all the time. It’s what makes him a great profiler, and a unique person.

She wishes, not for the first time, that she could curse him and be done with it. But the truth is, the truth that she would never admit to anyone, not even herself, is that he is the best thing in her life.

His charming smile, stubborn ways, his  _ kindness- _ she’s never known anyone with as pure of heart- everything about him is the focus in which keeps her orbiting.

_ What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way _

_ What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you _

_ What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way _

_ What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you, no _

She grabs her jacket and keys and is out of her front door before she can have a second thought. When she does not find him at his apartment (he would never let someone knock at his door and leave it unanswered, she knows), her second guess would be the bar down the street.

Her heart gives a pang when she finds him there, knows that it is him by the back of his head. Scully would know that crop of thick brown hair anywhere, she’d bet. She sees his hand holding a rock glass full of whiskey and hesitates, wondering if she should be here. Deciding that she can’t walk away from him for the second time, she approaches.

_ The world was on fire and no-one could save me, but you _

Mulder feels a small hand on his shoulder and instantly knows that he can thank his lucky stars at least one more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The self-deprecation of the characters is not reflective of how I view them (of course), it is simply artistic license for the sake of the chapter (:


	2. Can't Take My Eyes off You//Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons

Mulder could stay forever in this night and die a happy man.

He and Scully are in his apartment, their aim being to wind down after an especially difficult case. Unfortunately, a wrench has been thrown in their original plans of watching an old movie with a pizza.

The power has gone out, and a dozen vanilla-scented candles (“I had no idea you were so  _ vanilla _ , Mulder” Scully had grinned at him) are now scattered around the room. They cast a peach glow across the area where he and Scully currently occupy. Her feet are tucked underneath her on his couch, and in her hand is a glass of white wine. She is halfway to tipsy already, a pink flush high on her cheeks emphasized by her enthusiasm. They are having one of their usual debates that will inevitably dissolve into banter.

It’s hot in the apartment, and her button up has long since come off, leaving only the white ribbed undershirt underneath. Even in the dim lighting, she is still every bit as radiant to Mulder.

“What did you think of me when we first met?” She takes another sip of wine, watching him expectantly.

He chuckles before answering. “In the interest of full disclosure- that you were beautiful. And that I was in over my head.”

Scully raises an eyebrow and takes another sip of wine to avoid responding. She shifts around on the couch, unconsciously moving closer to him. 

“What about me? What did you think about Spooky Mulder?” 

“That you were…..passionate.” She laughs a little, and he does too.

The battery-operated radio that Scully had barely noticed playing in the background now releases familiar notes that capture her partners attention.

“This is a good one.” He stands, holding out a hand. “May I have this dance, Miss Scully?”

“Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons, huh?” She grabs his hand anyway.

_ You're just too good to be true _

_ Can't take my eyes off of you _

_ You'd be like Heaven to touch _

_ I wanna hold you so much _

_ At long last, love has arrived _

_ And I thank God I'm alive _

_ You're just too good to be true _

_ Can't take my eyes off of you _

They sway slowly in the living room of unit 42, the moment suspended by the candlelight.

_ Pardon the way that I stare _

_ There's nothin' else to compare _

_ The sight of you leaves me weak _

_ There are no words left to speak _

_ But if you feel like I feel _

_ Please let me know that it's real _

_ You're just too good to be true _

_ Can't take my eyes off of you _

  
  


“What about now?” Scully asks.

“What?”

“You told me what you thought of me when we first met, what about now?”

“Well, you’re still beautiful. And I’m still definitely in over my head.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short & sweet.


	3. Time After Time//Cyndi Lauper (Iron and Wine cover)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the original song as well as all of the many covers, but my inspiration for this chapter specifically came from the Iron and Wine cover. Check it out if you've never heard it and want to drown in MSR feelings. See end of the chapter notes for slight content warning.

Dana Scully had her life planned out from a young age. One thing she never saw coming, however, was Fox Mulder.

She had loved people before, of course- family love, platonic friendship love, romantic love. She guesses she simply figured that she’d never find all that in one person. 

Until she did.

Everything from that first day they met down in the basement office, to their first kiss on New Years Eve, she sees a supercut of it all every night when she lays down to sleep.

_ Lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you _

_ Caught up in circles _

_ Confusion is nothing new _

_ Flashback, warm nights _

_ Almost left behind _

_ Suitcase of memories _

_ Time after _

Tonight has a strange feel to it, that feeling of nostalgia and longing that makes itself known after a long, hard day.

Life as an FBI agent wasn’t always easy- hell it hardly ever was. But some nights it took its toll on Scully, every unanswered question, every dark story surrounding a victim, every night going home alone to a dark and empty apartment.

Tonight was such a night, and she curled up near the window in her oldest, rattiest sweatshirt with a cup of tea clutched in her hands. Meeting Mulder was an important turning point in her life, but when the universe delivers her tough blows, she struggles to reconcile her life plans with the impact she is making with her work with the FBI.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mulder sensed his partners impending mood change a mile off. She wasn’t quite as cut out for the loneliness and sometimes downright unsatisfaction that the X-Files could elicit. He had a few extra years in the bureau to pad his own psyche. 

_ Sometimes you picture me _

_ I'm walking too far ahead _

_ You're calling to me, I can't hear _

_ What you've said _

_ Then you say, "go slow" _

_ And I fall behind _

_ The second hand unwinds _

He tried to leave well enough alone and let her go home to her own space to think and process, but the feeling of her needing him sat heavy in his chest. Years together has given him enough Scully-sense to know when she needs help but refuses to ask for it. 

Mulder begins the familiar drive to her place before really giving it a second thought. 

He knocks on her door and when she answers it with barely-concealed teary eyes, he knows he has made the right decision.

_ If you're lost you can look and you will find me _

_ Time after time _

_ If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting _

_ Time after time _

_ If you're lost, you can look and you will find me _

_ Time after time _

_ If you fall, I will catch you, I will be waiting _

_ Time after time _

He pulls her into a hug, her tiny frame fitting perfectly into his just as it always does. Her arms squeeze him tightly and he rests his chin on top of her head.

“I’m here.” He squeezes her back and leads her to the couch, still keeping her tucked into his side.

They play a mindless tv show in the background that neither of them is really watching. 

“I’m scared.” Scully finally says.

“Of what?” Mulder looks down after her but her eyes are focused on her hands.

“I don’t know.” She says after a beat of silence. He shifts her impossibly closer again.

Strangely, he knows what she means. The feeling of fear that lingers like a plume of cigar smoke in a dimly lit bar.

Mulder thinks back to when they kissed, how that was one of the only moments he can recently recall the smoke dissipating.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They end up laying down together on the sofa, another first for them. He lays underneath her, her head resting comfortably on his firm chest and their legs entwined. Mulder’s hand absently runs up and down her arm soothingly, and it’s like a dam breaks.

She thinks of how he knew what she needed without her ever asking, and without a second thought, she leans up and kisses him; feels his surprise at the sudden action but keeps going. He kisses back and she almost breathes a sigh of relief, would have if her mouth wasn’t preoccupied at the moment.

The kiss is languid, slow, full of the words they’d wanted to say but couldn’t for years now.

His palm moves to take up residence on her lower back, fingers splayed out in a reminder of just how much bigger he is than her. She shivers and he hikes her up his body- she now fully lay on top of him.

Scully moved a hand to his hair, the hair she’s thought of gripping so many times; in anger, in a romantic gesture, in ways more lewd than both of those sentiments. He makes a hum of appreciation and she tugs on it lightly, already addicted to making him feel good. 

She rolls against him in a slow, dirty grind, and the sound it drags from him is worth every guilty fantasy of her imagining this. They move together, slowly at first and then faster as their climaxes build. His other hand has moved to her thigh now, bared by the rise of her satin sleep shorts. She still clutches his hair, keeping herself pressed down close to him so that they can breathe the same recycled air, passed back and forth by their mutual gasping. 

The press of him against her has her coming undone before him, fisting a hand in his shirt and pulling hard as she tries to stifle her moan. He nuzzles against her cheek as she lays her head down, exhausted, and a sharp intake of breath tells her that he has finished too.

_ If you fall, I will catch you, I will be waiting _

_ Time after time _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Some non-explicit smut. Is that a thing? If not, I declare it a thing.


	4. Just What I Needed//The Cars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shortie chapter.

A knock at the door startles Scully from where she had been half-asleep on her couch. 

“Mulder, what are you doing here?” She pulls her robe tighter around herself, and beckons her partner into her apartment. 

“I was doing some research, and I came across something interesting.” He stands just a few steps inside the doorway, holding onto a shuffle of papers.

The pair end up at the kitchen table, working on the new lead for the case until the wee hours of the morning. Scully rests her chin in her hands, glancing over at Mulder who is still deeply engaged in his research. 

_ I don't mind you comin' here _

_ And wastin' all my time _

_ 'Cause when you're standin' oh so near _

_ I kinda lose my mind _

She secretly inhales his familiar scent of cologne and a hint of the same printer-paper smell that lingers in his office at the bureau. Scully stands and grabs both of their coffee mugs to bring to the sink. Hers, an old cream-colored mug with now faded butterflies, and his, a plain dark blue one. She had come to think of the blue one as Mulder’s since he was at her place and using it so often.

“No more coffee.” She remarks, washing the mugs quickly and setting them to dry. 

Mulder rubs his eyes. “I had no idea it was so late.” 

“Or early.” Scully responds wryly. “I’ll make up the couch, you shouldn’t drive home.” She brings out the familiar linens that she uses when guests stay over- by guests she means almost exclusively Mulder. This has been happening more frequently lately, but neither of them comments on it. It’s mostly Mulder showing up at her place, although she has been known to appear at door 42 with his favorite pizza on occasion as well.

This thing between them, the tension, the prolonged glances, it has existed for years but neither wants to acknowledge it fully for fear of breaking the spell.

It’s hard for her sometimes, of course it is, and she thinks that sometimes she can see in his eyes that it’s difficult for him too. But in Scully’s experience, nothing good ever lasts, and she couldn’t stand it if she lost Mulder.

“You okay?” He squeezes her shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She answers him with a small smile and they bid goodnight and go their separate ways.

Scully wakes in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water. She hears Mulder murmuring in his sleep as he so often does. A mind like his never really shuts off. 

_ I don't mind you hangin' out _

_ And talkin' in your sleep _

_ It doesn't matter where you've been _

_ As long as it was deep, yeah _

She goes back to her own room and lays awake for a short while. Finally, she gets up once again and goes to the couch. She softly nudges Mulder awake by the shoulder.

“Mulder, come to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have a small list of songs I will be doing, but feel free to leave me recommendations as well (:


	5. Alone With Me//Vance Joy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will most likely be more Vance Joy songs in this collection (:

“Mulder?” Scully knocked on the door of her partner’s apartment. He hadn’t shown up for work that morning or given her a call to say he was running late.

“Mulder?” She calls again, louder this time and knocks once more. She hears faint shuffling from the interior of the unit and waits.

Mulder opens the door, his hair tousled and his skin visibly pale and clammy. “Scully, I-” He stops and swallows, the action looking painful. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called. I feel like crap, I’ve been up all night.”

She pushes past him despite his protests. “You’re sick, you should’ve told me, I would’ve brought things with me.”

“I’m sorry.” He says again, looking genuinely apologetic.

His gray t-shirt is soaked through, and his sweatpants are pushed up on one calf and hanging down on the other. His voice is dry and hoarse- it’s clear that he has the flu.

“Let’s get you into some clean clothes and go from there.” Scully has officially switched into doctor-mode, ushering Mulder into his bedroom. He sits on the edge of his bed, obviously feeling shaky and weak in his current state. She helps him strip off the shirt and hands him a new one, pointedly not looking at the way his toned stomach and arms flex with the motion. Or maybe she does glance one or twice, but she feels immediately guilty given her partner’s vulnerable state.

Scully places a call to Skinner after she helps Mulder settle onto the couch, letting him know that neither of them will be in today.

She heads to the market on the corner after Mulder assures her that he will be fine by himself for a while. She adds orange juice, the ingredients for chicken soup, tissues, cough drops, and a myriad of other things she knows he needs into her cart, figuring he might need other basic necessities while he is recovering. 

He is dozing on the couch when she gets back to his apartment, and she couldn’t help the smile on her face at the site if she tried. Mulder looks so innocent and peaceful when he sleeps, almost the polar opposite of the exuberant nature he possesses when he is awake. It’s sweet, and it stirs something in her that makes her turn away before her thoughts can go any further.

By noon, she is in his kitchen chopping vegetables; dicing carrots, celery, and onion as she prepares to make homemade chicken soup the way her mother always did for her when she was ill. 

Scully doesn’t immediately notice Mulder wake up. He stays resting on the couch, watching her silently. She seems so content, taking care of him. She does notice that he is awake once she has the soup simmering on the stove, and she smiles at him. It’s a smile he doesn’t always see, unhindered like she’s happy just to see him. He thinks that maybe she restrains herself at work but now that they’re here, she has nothing to hide.

_ I saw you smile _

_ I knew you had spirit _

_ Oh won't you let your colors run _

_ Isn't it odd, the way we try to tell ourselves we got limits _

_ You're beautiful, but you just don't see it sometimes _

_ And I don't know why _

Scully enters the living room. “How are you feeling?” 

“A little better, thanks to the wonders of Dr. Scully.”

She rolls her eyes “It’s from the rest and the medicine, Mulder.” The grin stays on her face anyway.

“Maybe.” He shrugs, not ready to admit defeat. “I’m glad you came over today.”

“Why’s that, so you have an excuse to eat something other than Thai food for once?” She is referencing the myriad of takeout containers that frequently litter his coffee table.

“No, so that I get to see you. I almost missed out on a whole day of Scully.” He tsks, masking it as a joke when in fact he is quite serious. He spends five, sometimes even six or seven days a week with her, even a single day alone would leave him at a loss.

_ Oh, you're the shape of my days _

_ Oh, you're my holy place _

_ And I know _

“Soup should be done soon.” She sits by him on the couch, far enough away that she isn’t crowding him and won’t be as susceptible to catching his illness.

He internally wishes she were closer.

They eat the soup while a movie plays in the background, one that Mulder has seen but Scully has not. She keeps making little comments about it, intelligent observations that Mulder has never noticed despite having seen the film more than once. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to spend casual time with another person.

Sometime during the movie it begins to rain, the sky darkening and allowing the glow of the lamp to fill the room. It’s cozy, being here together on a dreary day. Despite his current state, Mulder feels a balloon of happiness begin to inflate inside his chest.

_ Everything's good _

_ Everything's just as it should be _

_ When you're alone with me _

_ Everything's good _

_ Everything's just as it should be _

_ When we're alone  _

_ When I fall, I'm fine _

_ All I wanted was your time _

_ Everything's good _

_ Everything's just as it should be _

_ When you're alone, alone with me _

About an hour after the soup, Mulder’s fever spikes again. Scully makes him go to his bedroom to lay down this time, and periodically brings him a cool cloth for his forehead.

On the third trip with a new cloth, his fever still has not broken. She feels a pang in her chest at how miserable he is, and she uses the cloth to dab at his face this time, hoping it might bring him more relief. He opens his eyes to look at her. “Scully.”

“Yes, Mulder?” She isn’t really paying attention, she is focused on the task at hand.

“I love you.”

Her hand holding the cloth halts. She swallows and lets out a small chuckle. “You’re delirious.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t change it. I just wanted you to know.” He says it so casually, in a way that only he could get away with. As if he simply had to say it and genuinely just wanted her to be aware.

“Well, I love you too.” Scully surprises the hell out of herself with the admission. It was easy, like saying “hello” when answering the phone, or “thank you” when grabbing a coffee. His eyes have closed again but he smiles wide.

_ Here I am, saying things to you _

_ I never thought that I would say outside my head _

_ Oh, and here we are _

_ I'm doing things with you I never thought we'd do _

_ I'm seeing into you _

His fever breaks in the late evening, and Scully forces another bowl of soup and two glasses of water into him before she allows him to get up and move around. 

She watches him as he reads through case files, barely managing not to roll her eyes at the fact that he is still working on his day off. She thinks about the fact that there’s nowhere else she’d rather be than next to him as he comes up with another one of his theories and puts a plan into motion.

Or maybe, there is just nowhere else she'd rather be than next to him, period.

_ Oh, you're the shape of all my days _

_ Oh, you're my holy place _

_ And I know _

_ Everything's good _

_ Everything's just as it should be _

_ When you're alone with me _

_ Everything's good _

_ Everything's just as it should be _

_ When we're alone  _

_ When I fall, I'm fine _

_ All I wanted was your time _

_ Everything's good _

_ Everything's just as it should be _

_ When you're alone, alone with me _

**Author's Note:**

> The self-deprecation of the characters is not reflective of how I view them (of course), it is simply artistic license for the sake of the chapter (:


End file.
